


The Dead Ask Forgiveness

by MSquared79



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dream Within a Memory, Family, Forgiveness, Gen, Prophecy, Prophetic Dreams, a ghost or two--and not the kind with four legs, life after death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 11:06:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12107376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSquared79/pseuds/MSquared79
Summary: The red woman had wanted to know what was on the other side.  Now, after his dream, so did Jon Snow.





	The Dead Ask Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, now I'm writing "Game of Thrones" Fanfictions. It's attacked my muses. So many interesting relationships to explore, and so much time before the next season! So, I'm keeping myself occupied with writing, with letting my imagination run wild. So, yes, there is probably more where this came from. I'll get around to writing it, I'm sure.

Jon hadn’t been untruthful when he had told Melisandre he had seen nothing on the other side. It had just taken him time to sort out what it had been that he’d seen. It was a jumble of images, places, faces, at least at first. 

But when they had returned home, after he had secured Winterfell and called a meeting of the Northern Lords, only then had he understood, fully, what he had seen.

It had been late at night. He’d seen Sansa off to her room and made his way to his. It was cold, despite the fire in the hearth, but all the same, he kept his tunic on as he lay in the bed. There were a million things to be done before the lords came and it just left him exhausted. He closed his eyes, awaiting blissful sleep.

A noise woke him and get rose from the bed. Curiously, he was dressed in the Black. He left the room and realized he was at Castle Black, on a snowy evening. He walked outside and glanced into the courtyard, seeing his treacherous brothers stabbing him.

The next thing he knew, the scene had changed and he was back at Winterfell, inexplicably. It seemed that the castle was empty, but he saw the Stark banners flying. A sound caught his attention. He turned and saw Robb walking his way, holding the hand of a dark-haired woman, lean and graceful.

“Robb!” Jon called out. He couldn’t believe that he was seeing Robb. Was this what lay after? Would be be reunited with those he lost?

Robb looked at him, but his expression bore nothing of surprise to it. He smiled, briefly, then knelt before Jon, as did the woman.

“What are you doing?” Jon asked, a little uncomfortable.

“One kneels before a king, doesn’t one?” his brother had asked. There was no hint of humor in his voice, only solemnity. 

“A king? Me? Don’t be daft!” Jon shook his head, not wanting to hear his brother’s words.

Robb and the woman merely smiled and moved off, leaving Jon alone once again.

It was then that he caught sight of a young, dark-haired woman. For a moment, he thought it was Lady Catelyn, but then he noticed her on the balcony above. Her expression...it was one he had never seen directed at him. Usually, her eyes were cold and dead when looking at him. He knew she blamed him for the one blemish on his father’s reputation. But now, she looked about ready to cry. He watched as she hurried down the stairs and towards the Godswoods. 

Something compelled him to follow her. When Jon found her, she was leaning against the Heart Tree. He could hear her sobs, see her chest heave, as she appeared to be trying to come up for air. He was ready to turn around a leave her, but something stopped him. He turned around and approached her. “Is there something wrong, My Lady?” Even to his own ears, he sounded little more than a child. 

Catelyn seemed to calm down and right herself. “ ‘The dead know all,’ ” she quoted. He was more a follower of the Old Gods, and had little knowledge of the Faith of the Seven. She turned and, at his quizzen expression, explained, “Book of the Stranger, chapter 18, verse 70. It is taken to mean, in the next life, we will be omniscient. I have been a follower of the Seven all my life, and I never believed that. The burden of such knowledge...I thought it would be terrible.” She let out a deep sigh, then went on. “And I was correct.”

“I don’t understand, My Lady.” 

She sat down on a log and, for the first time in his life, stretched out her hand for him. He looked around, thinking she must be gesturing to someone else. But it was only he who was there. Not his father, not any of his siblings. 

Lady Catelyn Stark beckoned him.

He took her hand and sat down next to her. She raised it to her lips and kissed it. “I beg you for your forgiveness. For all those years...You were a motherless child and I never tried to take you into my heart.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” he said, stunned by her statement.

She shook her head. “When you were a child, you came down with a pox. You nearly died. And I thought, at last, I would be rid of you. At last, Ned’s honor would be expunged.” She looked down at the ground, unwilling, it seemed, to face him. “Then one night, I saw Ned in your room, looking near heartbroken at the thought you could die. And, in that moment, I repented. I prayed to the Seven that you would get well again. I said, ‘If you let the boy live, I will take him into my heart. I will love him as if he were my own.’ ” Now her hand came up and cupped his cheek. “Your fever broke that night. But I went back on my word.” She rounded back to him, her eyes stained with tears. “I believe all that has happened to us these last years is punishment for my sin, for the oah I broke with the gods.”

Jon shook his head. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. He understood a long time ago what he meant to Ned Stark’s honor. A moment of weakness, a young man alone in the world, fighting a war. He wanted to alleviate her suffering. “You have nothing to apologize for. I know the pain you felt whenever--”

She shushed him then, bringing her finger to his lips. “If only I had known the truth, if the secret hadn’t been so terrible. But he made a vow, and would rather had besmirched himself, than break his vow.”

It was making less and less sense, what Catelyn was saying. What secret, what vow? But Jon understood at least one thing. “My father.” She nodded her head. “But what are you speaking of? It makes no sense.”

She stood suddenly. “Please, forgive us all. We were only trying to protect you.” Then she was gone, from where she had been standing, now snow-laden ground was surrounding him. He whipped his head again when he saw the woman he had noticed before he had followed Lady Catelyn. She walked back towards the keep and he knew he had to follow her. She went in a door, the one that led down to the crypt. He trailed behind her, fearful of what he could now learn. But as he stepped into the crypt, and saw the woman near a statue, he saw himself, still on the ground at Castle Black, Ghost howling at the realization Jon was dead. 

Now he awoke and felt the softness of his bed, the warmth of the furs. Outside, he could see it was morning, a light snowfall blowing through Winterfell.

What he had just dreamed? Was it a dream, or a memory, or both? For a moment, he wanted to consult Melisandre, but he had banished her for the murder of Shireen Baratheon. He had told her, should she return to the North, he would have Davos execute her. 

The red woman had wanted to know what was on the other side. Now, after his dream, so did Jon Snow.


End file.
